


Mage of Steel

by Jonn_Wolfe



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Smallville
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Drama, F/F, F/M, Gen, Grey Harry, Past Child Abuse, Powerful Harry, Romance, Sexual Content, Take No Shit Harry, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-25
Updated: 2016-05-09
Packaged: 2018-01-20 18:47:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1521629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jonn_Wolfe/pseuds/Jonn_Wolfe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clark wasn't the only one sent to Earth. While Jor-El sent Kal to the Kents, Lara sent his fraternal twin brother Xal to the Potters in order for him to better fit in with his Kryptonian Sorcerery. Of course, she had no idea that Great Britain was in the middle of a Wizard War. Watch a totally different Harry Potter make his mark on the world, while protecting his family and loved ones.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Ring

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Don't own squat, 'cept the plot.
> 
> Smallville/Harry Potter Crossover
> 
> Due to this crossing, the initial meteor shower that brought Clark to Smallville has been backdated to 31 July 1980. Everything else will be similarly affected in Smallville.
> 
> Bookcover is subject to change, as I still have no idea who to pair Harry with. Half tempted to make it Chloe just to piss Clark off. LOL
> 
> "Speaking"  
> Thinking  
> 'Mind Speech'  
> {Foreign Language}

 

* * *

**Earth Space: July 31, 1980**

A cloud of dust and rock approached the planet. As it passed close to the moon, the heavier rocks were pulled away by gravity to impact it in a cluster of new craters, mostly on the far side from the Earth. Three small spaceships were hidden amongst the dust and rocks. Of the three, two were identical while the third was half again as large. The larger was about two minutes behind the first two.

As they moved past the moon, one of the identical pair changed vectors and veered to the right, while the other two stayed the course with the cloud of dust and rock. The ones with the cloud headed towards the centre of North America, while the other targeted a small island off the coast of Europe.

In mid afternoon, the cloud and the first ship made planetfall at Smallville, Kansas. The largest of the three was missed in the disaster and impacted below a river dam close by. The smaller of the two crashed in a field, near a panicking couple that were dodging debris in their truck.

Crossing the terminator into night, the third fireball was actively observed by three people on the ground in a magically unpolottable area close to Godric's Hollow.

The woman turned to one of the males. "How did you know, James?"

"It was predicted in the Potter Grimoire, Lily," James replied quietly. "I didn't honestly believe in Veritas until now. If it's right, you and I are about to become parents."

They winced as the fireball impacted, and Sirius turned to his best friends. "Questions later. We better get down there, before the DMLE or Death Eaters show up."

With that, the three twisted in place and apparated to the crash site with a triple crack of sound.

* * *

**Gringotts 1991**

"'arry Po'er would like to make a withdrawal," the huge and hairy Hagrid stated with a large smile on his bushy face.

The head teller, a goblin of somewhat smarmy appearance, perked up slightly before leaning forward to look down. He was concerned to see the child, as he didn't look all that fit inside those disgusting rags he was wearing. Still, the corner of his mouth twitched when the boy gave a slight wave at him. "And does Mr. Potter have his key?"

Hagrid's eyes popped as he began searching his pockets. "Oh! Got it 'round 'ere summere." After a few seconds, his face lit up. "Ah! 'ere's the lil devil!" he held the golden key up with a grin.

The goblin's eyes narrowed. The key was supposed to be on the boy's person, not the half giant's. His left hand slid to the side to tap a runed alert stone. "Very well. Please hand the key to the lad," he said rather sternly with a glare.

"Sorry," Hagrid mumbled as he held the key out to Harry. "'ere ya go, 'arry."

Harry took the golden key, and noticed two of the goblins that were wearing armor – guards he supposed – stepping around Hagrid. "Everything okay?" he meekly asked.

"You're not in trouble, Mr. Potter," the head teller stated. "However, it is disturbing that you did not have your key before now. Tell me, have you ever seen it before?"

Harry looked up at Hagrid, then to the head teller and shook his head.

"Dumbledore gave it to me so I could bring 'arry 'ere," Hagrid said, a bit confused.

The head teller's glare intensified. "Be that as it may, Mr. Hagrid, the fact remains that the Scion of the House of Potter should be the only one to hold the key." He looked to the two guards that were a good head taller than the boy. "Do your duty."

The guards saluted with fists on their chests, then held heir halberds up to separate the pair. "Oi!" Hagrid protested, "Hol' on, now!"

"Go with the guards, Mr. Hagrid," the head teller ordered. "They will escort you to a conference room, while we tend to Mr. Potter."

"Dumbledore said to stay wid 'arry!" Hagrid spoke up louder, even though he went where the rather pointy sticks told him to go.

"Hagrid?" Harry spoke up. This day couldn't get any stranger, and he was starting to get rightly spooked over the matter.

Seeing the fright on Harry's face, Hagrid tried to stay positive. "Jus' do wha' they say, 'arry. Be respec'ful." He looked at the head teller. "You're no' gonna 'urt 'im, are ya?"

"No, sir," the head teller stated. "However, this is a discrepancy that must be investigated. That is all."

Harry flinched when a goblin in a business suit touched him on the arm. He hadn't seen this one sneak up on him, and that was really saying something.

"Peace, young one," the goblin said with a hand up. "My name is Goldturn. I run the Potter accounts. If you will step this way, we can go to my office."

"Don't hurt him," Harry whispered. "He's my first friend. It's prob'ly my fault."

Goldturn looked to the head teller and shared a look of dread, before turning back to Harry. "Not to worry, Mr. Potter. Please come with me." The boy was far too meek, and had the demeanour of a _slave_ , for Ragnok's sake.

Leading the boy with a hand on his back, Goldturn walked him to the side door and down a corridor. Two other guards were behind them and followed to the goblin's office, where they took up posts on either side of the door. Inside, Goldturn lead Harry to a chair that was in front of the desk. "Please have a seat, Mr. Potter."

Doing as he was bade, Harry sat and drew into himself. He had no idea what was wrong, but had the feeling that it wasn't good. From under his brow, he watched Goldturn go around the desk to take his own seat. The office itself seemed to be hewn from solid rock. Torchlight flickered from the walls, which made the place gloomy and a bit frightening for the eleven year old.

Goldturn truly did not like what he was seeing. This was the Scion of a Noble and Most Ancient House, and he was dressed in rags. He was supposed to be proud, yet was acting like he was about to be whipped. The scar was on his forehead, but something more concrete was needed if he was to take the next step.

Deciding to treat the boy like a skittish colt, Goldturn spoke softly to the lad. "Are you familiar with the word 'identification'?"

Harry thought about that. "Driver's license?" he guessed.

_Muggle term_ , Goldturn thought with alarm. "Yes, that's right," he nodded. "Do you know about magic?"

Harry gave a half shrug. "Found out about it last night. Uncle says there's no such thing, though."

Closing his eyes briefly, Goldturn swore an oath to himself to skin the perpetrator of this absolute TRAVESTY! Taking a quick breath and forcing his face to remain neutral, he nodded again. "Very well." Reaching to the side, he slid a red coloured stone that was set into a piece of polished wood forward, to the edge of the desk.

"This stone acts as an identifier. When a person's hand is laid upon it, it will read the magical signature of the person and their name will appear above their hand. Do you understand?"

Harry nodded, but looked confused. "I think so."

"If you would place your hand on the stone, we can verify who you are," Goldturn said. "It will sting slightly, but very briefly. Please do so now."

"Okay," Harry said and reached forward. Goldturn was not that surprised that the boy didn't even twitch when he placed his hand on the stone. Infuriated yes, but not surprised. The fact that the stone's magic felt like a knife slice did nothing to the boy spoke to his pain tolerance. That he didn't react… well, nothing good could be said about it.

There was a seconds pause, before two names appeared over Harry's hand.

/ - - / - - \ - - \

**Xal-El**   
_Harold James Potter_

_\ - - \ - - / - - /_

"Harold James?" Harry whispered. "My name's _Harold_ _James_?" The words above his name had to be in goblin or something.

Goldturn saw the names and thought, _It's him_ , then inhaled sharply when the boy spoke. "You didn't know your first name was Harold?"

"No sir," Harry said with a shake of the head. "Didn't know my name was Harry Potter till I went to Primary School. Harold sounds nice. James is my middle name, then?"

"Yes it is," Goldturn said, quite exasperated now. "Forgive me, Mr. Potter, but where do you live?"

"Number Four, Privit Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey," Harry said with a furrowed brow.

"And whom do you live with?" Goldturn pressed.

Harry frowned and looked at his knees. "With my Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon," he said a bit sullenly.

"They don't treat you well, do they?" Goldturn said at almost a whisper. The sudden large eyes Harry had when he looked up was the first time their eyes met. And, he had all the appearance of a cornered animal now. "You don't have to answer that, Mr. Potter. Your reaction to the question is enough."

"Please don't say anything," Harry pleaded under his breath.

Inhaling deeply, Goldturn held his hand up in placation. "I can assure you, Mr. Potter, you will **not** have to reside there ever again."

The look of hope on Harry's face was painful to watch, as was hearing the rather quiet, "Really?"

"You were never supposed to live with them in the first place, Mr. Potter," Goldturn said with conviction. "In fact, your late parents Will explicitly **forbade** it."

Harry simply sat there with his mouth agape, looking like a blinking dead fish. Eventually, he said, "Then… why?"

"One of a number of things that we will investigate," Goldturn said. "Someone went against your late parent's wishes. This will be rectified. As it stands, we need to have you examined by our healers – what you would call doctors – to assess your health and well being. Are you all right with that?"

"Never been to a doctor before," Harry whispered. "All right."

* * *

The next several hours were exhausting for the boy. Four healers – _three goblin, one human_ – documented everything about him, from his malnourished state to his numerous injuries that never healed completely.

Harry ended up having to drink several concoctions. Some still bubbled, others steamed, and most were quite rancid in various ways. The only one he liked tasted somewhat sweet and was told that it was like food, only more potent. That one made him ravenous, and they had him eat until he was properly full for the first time he could remember.

The human healer, a curse breaker specialist named Orin Teller, was called in to help facilitate the removal of several curses that were on the lad. It was with the first curse removed that Harry perked up and started asking questions. Apparently, that one was against his mind.

It took the combined magic of the four healers to remove the final curse. The others were somewhat painful to remove, and it was neat to see his hands glowing for those few minutes, but the last needed extra attention. They had to strap him down for that one, as well as completely immobilize his head.

At the height of their chanting, the most horrendous screeching could be heard. Harry wasn't able to see it, since his eyes were covered, but a trail of black smoke leached from his scar and was moved to a small block of petrified wood. It was at that point that Harry passed out from the pain.

* * *

"There he is," someone said.

Opening his eyes, Harry found that he was in a completely white room. It didn't hurt, even though it was so bright. Four people were sitting next to the bed he was lying on. A dark red headed woman and a raven haired man sat to his left, while a strawberry blonde woman and another raven haired man sat on his right.

The four adults wore robed clothing that he'd never seen before. The ones on his left wore long, light grey robes, while the robes on the ones on the right were as bright a white as the rest of the room. A strange silver number eight inside a diamond was on the fronts of the bright white robes.

He found that the women were holding his hands. The redhead had tears going down her cheeks, while the strawberry blonde just had a sad look on her face. The blonde looked to the redhead and nodded.

"Hello, Harry," the redhead said. "I'm your adoptive mother, Lily. It is so good to see you, baby."

A hand stroked his hair from the blonde, who said, "And I'm your birth mother, Lara."

The dark haired man on the left spoke next. "I'm your adoptive father, James."

"And I'm your birth father, Jor-El," the other man said in a deep baritone.

Lara got his attention with a squeeze of the hand. "Your story is long, Xal-El. While we have time here, we'll be able to inform you of things that need to be done when you wake. Can you listen and do these things for us, my son?"

Blinking tears out of his eyes, Harry simply nodded.

* * *

The questioning of Rubeus Hagrid was disturbing. The half giant idolized Albus Dumbledore, and anything said about the old wizard could be somewhat justified by the large man. While the half giant was intimidating in presence, it was discovered that he had the emotional temperament of a child – with the beliefs and defensive nature of the same.

Finding no fault with Hagrid, the inquisitors had a goblin mind mage alter the half giant's memories. The stone was given to him, and the memory of purchasing a snowy owl as a present for Harry was implanted, just has he was planning to do himself. After he was sent on his way, a runner was sent to pick up the owl.

* * *

Several hours after the final ritual was performed, Harry groaned and rolled over. The goblin healer on duty, a female by the name of Coraxe, checked on him and sent word to Goldturn.

"How are you feeling?" Coraxe asked him.

Harry grunted out a small sounding, "Sore. Thirsty."

He was sitting up and on his second glass of water when Goldturn arrived. He gave the goblin a weak smile and a nod. "Honourable Goblin, I humbly request to be taken to my mother's vault, number 2105."

After an exchange of pleasantries, and Harry gave assurances that he was feeling better, Harry had to stop once he was on his feet. "Uhm. Pardon me, Goldturn, but weren't you taller before?" Instead of looking up at him, he now had to look down and noticed that the top of the goblin's head only came up to his chin.

"The wonders of magic, Mr. Potter," Goldturn said with a grin. "Those nutritional potions you took, along with the small horde of food you ingested countered the ten years of not eating right. I dare say no one will recognize you."

All Harry could say to that was a puzzled, "Hunh."

* * *

As they exited the rather exciting cart, Harry did the second thing Lily told him. A look to Goldturn, he stated the request. "If you could send a copy of my parent's Will to Amelia Bones, I think she could help."

"I will see to it while you are in the vault, Mr. Potter," he replied. "Now, all you need to do is simply place your hand on the iron plate next to the door."

Harry felt a similar stinging on his hand when he pressed the plate with his palm. The sound of a series of clicks went through the tunnel, before the door split in the middle, sliding into the walls.

"Neat," Harry commented with a grin.

Goldturn nodded. "You should be in there for about three hours. As I understand it, you will most likely be sleeping through part of it, so there isn't a chance of boredom. If you are done before I get back, just open the door via the plate on the inside, then ring the bell for a cart and ask for me."

Harry turned and offered his hand. "Thank you, Goldturn."

The goblin took it with a grin on his face. "My pleasure, Mr. Potter."

Harry took note of the inner door plate as he entered the vault. There was close to five feet of tunnel, before the vault opened up. Roughly square, it was a fifteen by fifteen foot room.

On the leftmost wall, Harry saw two paintings over a long table full of items that he didn't understand. He recognized the paintings as James and Lily Potter, who appeared to be sleeping.

On the wall opposite him, there wasn't much except a single bed that was simply done up in red and gold.

It was on the far right that got Harry's attention, and the reality of what was happening came into a rather intense focus. Sitting there – _well hovering, really_ – was a silver ship shaped like a point of a spear with a sphere in the middle of it.

"Wow," Harry whispered.

That word seemed to wake one of the portraits. "Harry? James, wake up! Harry's here!"

The boy's head whipped around to see a beaming smile from Lily's portrait, while James' was blinking rather sleepily. When he focused on the boy, his eyes popped wide. "HARRY! Merlin's beard, how old are you son?"

"Eleven," Harry said sheepishly.

James blinked owlishly behind his spectacles. "Bloody hell. It all went wrong, didn't it?"

"James, language," Lily chastised, then turned to Harry. "What have you been told, son?"

Fidgeting in the robes he was given in the infirmary, Harry looked back and forth between the two paintings. "I know that you are my adoptive parents. After the goblin healers removed some dark magic from… that night… you and my biological parents visited me in the white room. They called it ' _the in between_ ', whatever that means.

"They told me that Sirius is innocent of betraying you, that it was really Peter, and to send a copy of your Will to Amelia Bones. They didn't tell me who she was, though."

"She was the third person on the list of people in our Will that were to raise you, baby," Lily said. "So, Sirius is in prison, I take it?" Harry nodded, which made James scowl. "What happened to Alice Longbottom?"

"She and her husband are in something called a 'long term spell ward' in hospital," Harry misquoted.

"The Long Term Spell-Damage Ward in St. Mungos," James corrected. "Did they say anything else?"

Harry shook his head. "Just to come here. They did tell me a bit about my brother. Twins, they said. His eyes are blue, though."

James sighed. "Well, Lily, looks like you were right."

"I'm your wife, James. I'm always right," Lily said a bit haughtily, making Harry giggle. "I just wish I wasn't," she quietly said.

"Me too," James muttered.

"Well… Plan B it is, then," Lily said with a clap of her hands. "Harry, on the table, there's a blue coloured stone with an number eight on it. Come here and pick it up."

Doing as he was told, he found that the stone was shaped like the symbol on Jor-El and Lara's robes. Looking up, he saw Lily smile sadly with a nod.

"We were so hoping to have more time with you," she said. "Do you remember us at all?"

"Not really," Harry admitted. "I have a nightmare where a red headed woman, you I think, is screaming at a man in black. There's a green light where she falls, then there's a brighter green light and pain."

Both paintings were wide eyed. "How long," James started, then changed the question. "Do you know when that happened?"

"The goblins told me it happened on the Samhain of 1981," Harry said.

"Gods," Lily whispered, with her hands going to her mouth. James moved from his portrait to hers and held her from the side. "Fifteen months. We only had you fifteen _months_."

"I know," Harry said quietly.

James rubbed Lily's shoulders. "Son, take that stone and place it in the hole for it on the ship over there. It's on the right, close to the back of it."

Nodding, Harry turned and went to the ship. He had a weird sense of being there before, and to be perfectly honest, it intimidated him a bit. Feeling the ship with his fingertips, it was perfectly smooth and a touch warm. He found the indentation, and initially put the stone in backwards. Flipping it when he realized it didn't fit right, he put it back in with the eight showing.

There was a light blue glow around the edges of the diamond shape, before the room faded from around him. All he could see was the ship and white. Turning around, he saw Lara and smiled. He went to hug her, but she held her hand up, stopping him.

"I'm sorry, Xal-El, but I'm only an image." Seeing his face fall slightly, she smiled. "Looks like things went awry if you're here this soon."

"Everything went wrong," Harry said. "Saw you in the in between," he paused as she seemed to focus on that with an intense look, "and, well, she said that it's a Diamond Echo scenario."

Lara closed her eyes and lowered her head. "That was the second possibility I saw. I am so sorry, my son."

Harry was distracted by a noise from the ship. Turning, he saw the back half open up and shape itself into a chair.

"I truly wanted you to have a childhood. Hopefully your brother will, though," Lara said, gaining his attention again. "Kal-El is with the Kent family in the United States. We will discuss him later."

Harry looked at the chair apprehensively. "Will it hurt? The rituals hurt like nothing else I felt before."

"No," Lara said with a shake of the head. "I'm sorry that you had to go through that. The chair will only give you what you should have had. Lessons in English and your native language of Kryptonian; Mathematics and the Sciences; Deportment of Earth Magical Formality; as well as the basis for the Kryptonian Theory of Sorcery."

Harry turned back to her. "The real you said that Kal-El can't use sorcery? Why not? She said we were twins."

"Fraternal twins," Lara corrected. Seeing that he didn't understand, she made to explain. "Biologically, you are the same as any other set of siblings, only that you were born together. With Identical Twins, you would have shared everything. Since you are Fraternal, you will have differences.

"Kal-El is like your father, with the potential to be a genius in the sciences and has his blue eyes. You, on the other hand, are like me and have my green, though they appear even darker since that blood adoption ritual. When I was alive, I could wield the quantum energies with but a thought. I used it in what Earth Magic would call being a Healer. I did assist your father with his work, but my true zeal was with healing. I was rather good at it too," she said with a grin.

"Now," she waved him towards the chair, "have a seat. I promise that it won't hurt. It will take a few hours though."

Harry looked around for the paintings of his adopted parents. Not seeing them, he looked to his mother with a worried half grin. Taking a deep breath, he moved to the back of the ship and sat down.

As soon as he was seated, he froze in place as Kryptonian words and symbols rotated in different directions around his head. Dictionaries and Encyclopaedias of information were fed into his brain. While English and Kryptonian were being implanted, he could see the crystal palaces of Krypton; the fields surrounding the House of El; the testing area where his grandmother taught his mother the esoterics of sorcery; and many other things, including native animals; the arrangement of the Houses and etcetera.

It was at this point that Harry realized what was lost. He equated it as being worse than the loss of the Library of Alexandria, which he just discovered in the 'download'. An entire culture was swept away.

As Deportment and the Culture of Magical Britain was being fed, he saw his father and mother doting on two infants. One of the babies had ice blue eyes, while the other had icy green. He assumed that one was him, even though his eyes were a deeper green now.

He didn't notice, but he was standing straighter as he went about the virtual house. Images of arguments between Jor-El and his uncle Zor-El seemed to be frequent.

To say that his family of birth was a bit out of sorts would be underestimating things a bit. The word 'Dysfunctional' came to mind.

There were mentions of a war and the loss of the city of Kandor, along with the madness that Major Zod went through in the aftermath of that. The following war was a feud between the Houses of Zod and El. Fortunately, it seemed that his House won. However, the devastation to the planet seemed to be absolute. Zod was banished to the Phantom Zone amidst the frequent tremors.

By the time his initial session was done, he saw his and his brother's ships leave the atmosphere. They weren't that far away when the planet detonated.

* * *

Coming around after it was over, James and Lily's portraits saw Harry lean forward to place his head in his hands. They were alarmed to hear him sobbing.

{So much was lost,} Harry mumbled in Kryptonian. {All of it due to jealousy and hate!} Standing, Harry began pacing the room angrily. Sparks of wild magic popped from his hands and his head as he went.

"Harry?" Lily said, a bit alarmed.

James was just as worried. "Son?"

Spinning, Harry's eyes glowed red with streaks of tears going down his face. "An entire planet!" he raged. "A culture going back _millennia_ , all destroyed by a man that coveted his brother's wife! My Uncle! _Damn Him_ to the Phantom Zone!" he shrieked.

"Son, calm down. You're magic is going wild," James said. "Calm down and tell us what happened."

Fists clenched, Harry looked to the floor and reigned in his emotions. Lily and James were quite impressed with how soon he was able to control himself. As he stood up and opened his eyes, they saw the demeanour of a young noble. He looked at Lily and smirked. With a shake of the head, his hair changed to match the blood red hair of his adoptive mother's, then fell limp.

"Wicked!" James exclaimed. "No one will recognize you now! Does that mean you're a metamorphmagus?"

Harry shook his head. "No. Just hair colour and length. Which will be a boon, as I won't be able to have my hair cut when I get older. Could change my eye and skin tone, but I'll just make it look like I haven't been indoors my whole life." That said, his pale skin darkened to match the tone of Lily's.

Looking to the side a bit, he explained what had him so upset. "My uncle Zor-El was the younger of the two brothers. A scientist like my father, he was always jealous of the attention Jor-El received from their parents. As you know, if left long enough, jealousy can mutate into hatred."

Seeing their nods, he continued. "Anything my father received, Zor-El wanted for himself. While he did achieve many things on his own, his competitiveness with Jor-El was obsessive in nature. It got worse when Jor-El married my mother."

"Bad things can happen when a woman gets between two blokes," James commented. He was ribbed by Lily's elbow. "What? It's true! Look at what happened to Snivelous!"

"Snivelous?" Harry commented with an upturned brow.

Lily grumbled at James. "The overgrown boy here is referring to Severus Snape. I knew him before we went to Hogwarts. Don't worry about that now. You were saying?"

"Yes, quite right," Harry nodded. "Things got worse with the second civil war in less than fifty years. In a fit of pique, Zor-El supported the opposing leader, General Zod, in his bid for conquest. This wasn't discovered until it was too late for it to matter, though.

"The war destabilized the core of the planet. To put it in modern terms, they used something worse than Nuclear Weapons. And, several of them were tunnelling bombs that would bury themselves under several hundred metres of rock before they would detonate."

"What?" James asked, looking to Lily's wide eyes.

Lily blinked. "Think of a _reductor_ curse that can obliterate London, then what would happen if several of them were to happen underneath it."

"Merlin's hairy buttocks," James muttered.

Turning, Harry went to the ship and pressed a switch on the chair. A blob of silver lifted from the armrest and hovered in front of him. The blob then formed a silver ring with the symbol of the House of El on the face of it.

Reaching up, Harry plucked the ring from the air and placed it on his index finger. A wave of his hand vanished the ship with a flash of light.

"Uh," James blurted. "Where'd it go?"

Harry looked over with a grin on his face. "Pocket space. Or, what you would call Wizarding Space. Instead of a trunk though, it's in the ring." He held his hand up for emphasis.

"Is Kryptonian Sorcery all that much different from Earth Magic?" Lily asked.

Harry paused and looked away, thinking. "More like a deeper version of what you would consider magic. Are you familiar with physics or Quantum Mechanics? String Theory?" he asked, turning to face her again.

"I studied physics, but not all that well," Lily said. "Was a bit more concerned with the war and hiding," she said a bit sheepishly.

"It's similar," Harry said. "Technically, there's no such thing as "magic", just a different definition of what magic actually is. In reality, with the right equipment you can measure the cause and effect."

"I KNEW IT!" Lily bounced in her canvas.

Chuckling, Harry shook his head. "Okay. Want to come with me? After everything is said and done, I can have you back at the Manor."

"Oh, yes please," James said with a grin, Lily nodding along with him. "It's so boring here."

"Put us up in the main sitting room, please," Lily said with a smile.

"Right then," Harry said. "See you soon." Another wave of his hand had the portraits and the collection of bits and bobs on the table flashed into the pocket space of the ring.

Turning, he went to a corner of the room and nodded. Hidden behind a fidelus charm stood a large crystal that had a uniform inside it. Mostly a deep blue, the main draw was the over-long coat or robe with red trim that looked to go to the ankles. It had a bit of a straight collar with a notch for a larynx. Looking to the back, Harry could see that it was crimson. That was odd.

The trousers were the same blue. The Battle Crest for the House of El – _the one that looked like a letter S instead of a number 8_ – was bisected where the coat-like robe came together in the front.

Deep crimson boots were below.

All in all, a rather fetching set of Kryptonian Battle Robes. Harry knew that while they had the appearance of dragonhide – _even though it was far more durable_ – they were a composite material designed to better absorb solar radiation.

"See you later," Harry said with a devilish grin on his face.

* * *

Exiting the vault, he was greeted by Goldturn. "Did you find everything to your satisfaction, Mr. Potter?"

"Exceedingly so, Goldturn," Harry said with a nod. "Were you able to contact Amelia Bones?" he asked as they went to the cart.

"She's waiting for us in my office," Goldturn said as they sat in the cart. Looking over his shoulder at Harry, he had a wicked grin. "Suffice it to say, the lady is quite incensed over what has happened."

"Glad someone up there is," Harry muttered as Goldturn flipped the accelerator. He didn't even flinch or get tossed about as the cart sped up the tunnels.


	2. Legalities

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rituals

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't own squat, 'cept the plot.
> 
> "Speaking"  
> Thinking  
> 'Mind Speech'  
> {Foreign Language}
> 
> Thank you for the positive feedback. I have a multitude of ideas for this. Things will be quite different, so do not expect canon from either side. I've read a few stories of Harry being Clark's twin, which gave me this idea. Since Jor-El and Zor-El were so similar, it made sense to do the same with Kal-El's brother. Went through several letters, but Xal (pronounced 'Zal') seemed to fit the best and looked similar.
> 
> Questions arose as to whether or not Harry will have Clark's abilities in addition to magic: Yes. However, while he will be quite powerful, he will not be all-powerful.
> 
> As for Hogwarts? Well, read on.

* * *

**August 1, 1980 – Godric's Hollow**

It was just after midnight when the three adults plus their new addition came back to the house. Whatever that ship was made of was 'a bit resistant' to shrinking charms. So, they ended up disillusioning it for a walk and drag.

The baby boy couldn't have been more than a month old. His hair was darker than James'. And, even though his eyes were also green, they were many, _many_ shades lighter than the deep jade that Lily had. James had mumbled something about fixing that later.

This of course was after the near heart stopping meeting with an artificial ghost. Lara said to think of her as a more advanced painting, but that still unsettled the three of them. The baby, whom they were informed was named Xal, just burbled and made happy baby noises at the sight of Lara.

His mum, then. And apparently, his _late_ mum. According to the chronometer on the ship, ( _that's a type of clock, James_ ), the journey took a bit over five years. Krypton wasn't even in the same _galaxy_ , for the love of Merlin. Sure, they were shown a rather brilliant rendition of the Milky Way and Andromeda galaxies, but all James and Sirius got out of it was that, _'It was over there, with all those white dots – and we're here, with all these white dots.'_

She loved them both to pieces, but they simply didn't care for Astronomy. If it wasn't important to their fields of study – _defence_ , _pranks and such_ – then it simply wasn't important. She WILL break them of that… someday.

Eventually.

* * *

**Gringotts - 1991**

It would probably offend most of the old pureblood family's sensibilities, but the best aurors and law enforcement officers were Hufflepuffs. Well, that trend seemed to be waning in recent years for some reason, but it still held true. Loyalty and Hard Work were the backbone of the DMLE, no matter which way you looked at it. Since most of the so called 'ruling class' came from Slytherin house, they truly wouldn't understand.

There was the strange trend that was occurring with the fact that most of the new recruits came from Slytherin lately. Sure, there were exceptions to the rule, but Ambition and Cunning didn't do much for paperwork.

Something was off, and the Director of the DMLE knew there was a reason for it. She just had to find it.

Amelia Bones was considered to be a stern witch, stern yet fair. The last wizarding war reduced her House to two individuals: Herself and her niece. This September was coming far too soon for her liking. Little Susan was headed for Hogwarts, and her bodyguards wouldn't be going with her. She wouldn't be able to protect her like she wanted to any more.

She hated that.

That evening had a bit of bother that got her in what Susan would call a kerfluffle. Truth be told, Amelia was quite a bit beyond furious. The only indication that people would recognize, would be the indentation her monocle made in her left eye socket. If the crystal wasn't charmed nine ways from Sunday, it would've been shattered completely.

It had been such a quiet evening, too. After a lovely dinner of roast mutton, their quiet time together was interrupted by a floo call from Gringotts. Normally, the goblins wouldn't interfere in the doings of witches and wizards. This wasn't a normal situation though, and was covered in the by-laws of the latest and longest standing treaty between the two nations.

So, when the phrase 'Merlin Red' came through the floo from a rather angry goblin by the name of Goldturn, Amelia knew her quiet evening with Susan was completely ruined. When she was told that this particular goblin was the Potter Accounts Manager, she came to the rather rapid conclusion that it was going to be a total disaster.

Her potions cupboard took a hit when she stocked her hold-all with Pepper-Up. A Potter Emergency would most likely be an overnighter. She wasn't as old as she appeared, but she simply couldn't stay up overnight like she used to. After getting Roberts, Ewing and Crow to meet her in the Alley, she kissed Susan on the cheek and told the elves to ensure she was in bed by nine.

That of course evoked the usual groaning roll of the eyes that Susan was so good at lately. Cheeky thing.

The only good thing, was that her three aurors were already in the Leaky Cauldron when she arrived. Fortunately, it was after the dinner rush, so there were only a couple of people there besides Tom.

"All right gentlemen, listen up. We have a Merlin Red at Gringotts," Amelia said quietly. "That's all you need to know for now. Remember to not draw your wands, no matter what happens. I do **not** want to fill out the paperwork if any of you get killed for being draw-happy. Understood?"

Three versions of "Yes, Director", and they made their way through the Alley. All was relatively quiet. Then again, the scarlet robes usually caused people to clam up or shy away as it was, so it wasn't that unusual. However, seeing the Director of the DMLE on a warpath caused what few people were around to immediately go still.

They were met at the door of the bank and led through the corridors by a full squad of guards. She heard Ewing mutter nervously, then Crow telling him to relax. She couldn't blame him, really. Eight goblins with their hands on their weapons made her a bit jumpy as well.

* * *

Nervousness, shock, rage and other such emotions went through the Director of the DMLE when she read the Last Will and Testament of James and Lily Potter.

Sirius Black was not the secret keeper. That 'honour' went to Peter Pettigrew. The only survivor of the Potter Family wasn't sent with either of the godparents or _herself_ , and that was where most of the wrath she was feeling came from.

The child's placement with the very people that James and Lily expressly forbade, was the feather that broke the griffon's back.

"You might want to adjust your glamour," came the droll tone from Goldturn.

Looking at the clearer skin of her hand briefly, she checked over her shoulder to ensure that they were still alone. Her red hair whipped around when she did so. "Damn. Been a while since that happened."

A quick check to the charmed hair pin, and she pushed a bit of magic to reactivate the ageing glamour. It was psychological device, in that wizards tend to respect older witches much like their own mother.

Could be said to be true for men and women in general, magic or not, as well.

Getting her emotions under control, Amelia took a cleansing breath and let it out slowly. "Where is Harry?" she asked the goblin.

"Currently, he's in one of his family's vaults," Goldturn replied, hedging around the fact that it wasn't an actual Potter vault. "If you will direct your attention to the healer reports, you will understand my outrage in this matter.

"As it is, young Mr. Potter is undergoing a family ritual to make up for the complete lack of education as to his status in the world. If you will remember your lessons as a girl before you attended Hogwarts, this is similar, but tremendously more involved."

Amelia's occlumency was taking a beating from what she was reading and hearing. "I did not realize that the Potters had that form of magic."

"It is a family ritual, Madam Bones. All that I am allowed to say, is that it is the Last Gasp. When there are only children left, this ritual ensures that the new Lord Potter is fully educated to his duties to ensure the bloodline."

Of course, Goldturn was feeding her a combined load of hippogriff and dragon dung. While true that Harry was going through what _could_ be considered a Family Ritual, it definitely was _not_ a Potter one.

"Will he be finished soon, or should we schedule something for tomorrow?" Amelia asked.

Goldturn eyed the clock on his desk. "It shouldn't be too much longer. If you don't mind waiting thirty minutes, we can see how things have progressed."

Nodding, Amelia sighed heavily. "I can wait."

* * *

"Interesting hair colour," Goldturn commented as they exited the cart.

Harry nodded with a grin. "It's an homage to Lily. Plus, it will have the added benefit of further separating myself from that disgusting book series. Which reminds me, please suggest litigators that I can use to go after the publishers. If there's gold to be made off that, then I should be compensated. Or, and this should amuse you, I could sue for one hundred percent control of the rights and completely decimate those involved."

A rumbling chuckle came out of Goldturn. "I can see that we will be having a wonderful business relationship. I'll set the motion."

As they walked through the corridors, Harry had another thought. "With everything that has happened, I do believe I should claim the Potter Lordship. It was set up that way in the Will, correct?"

Nodding, Goldturn agreed. "Yes, and that would protect you from others. I have the ring in my office."

"No offence to Amelia Bones, but I need a bit of control right now."

"Indeed," Goldturn nodded.

Turning a corner, Harry saw the two goblin guards still flanking Goldturn's office. Opposite them were three aurors. He nodded to them when they noticed him. "Gentlemen. I hope this evening hasn't caused you undue problems with overtime."

"We're on the clock," Crow said with a shrug. "Night shift."

* * *

Turning in her seat when the door opened, Amelia was shocked. Straight, blood red hair, no glasses and intense green eyes; Harry didn't look anything close to a younger James. Still, her breath stuck in her throat. "Lily," softly came out of her mouth.

Harry smiled and held his hand out when she stood. "Greetings, madam. Harold James Potter the Fourth, scion and presumptive heir to the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter, Earl of Richmond." He bent over her hand and lightly kissed the air over her knuckles.

Amelia was stunned speechless. "Yes," she shook the cobwebs out of her head. "Greetings Scion Potter. I am Amelia Bones, Acting Head of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Bones, and Director of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement."

"Pleasure," Harry said, still smiling. "I do believe we have certain legalities to discuss. It is fortunate that you are the Director of the DMLE, Aunt Amy. Several things are wrong, and it is my hope that the majority of them can be rectified in a timely manner."

Though still a bit gobsmacked, Amelia had to grin when Harry called her Aunt Amy. "That we do, Harry. This will not be easy, though."

Harry's smile faded into a rather intense look. "Nothing right ever is."

"Let's get started," Goldturn said as he sat behind his desk.

* * *

Everything went well, up until Harry's throw away comment of not attending Hogwarts. Once she heard that, Amelia left all pretence of propriety and her Directorship behind, and fully turned into Aunt Amy: Parent.

The argument that followed lasted a quarter of an hour, before Amelia dropped the rather standard parenting ultimatum: **"You're going and that's final!"**

Apparently, Redheads shout a lot during arguments, too. Harry wasn't impressed. Vernon at least turned an interesting shade of puce when he bellowed. That was more of a bright pink.

Looking over at an immensely amused Goldturn, who was doing his best not to snort, he sighed. "Permission to use magic in your office?"

The goblin didn't trust his voice to flail into laughter, so he nodded and waved his hand to get on with it.

Standing, Harry turned and with a flick of a finger, levitated the chair he was sitting in to the centre of the room… much to Amelia's shock.

"Observe," Harry said, before flicking his hands about. The chair changed into a teacup, then a futon, a granite boulder, some type of horse that had black and white stripes that she'd never seen before, a small flock of canaries of different colours, a very odd looking animal that had a squished horn on top of it's head, then a multitude of furniture.

Once the chair was a chair again, he proceeded to demolish the poor thing with fire, cutting curses and small blasting hexes. After that was done, both of his hands twirled fingers to repair the chair.

Looking over to the rather stunned Amelia, Harry smirked before going through charms from first year to seventh and beyond. He ended it with a flick of the fingers that conjured a ghost of an animal that appeared to be a rather large dog.

Not once did he voice any form of incantation.

Lastly, Harry looked down to the rather drab brown robes he'd been given. A snap of the fingers caused them to ripple from the chest to the rest, and black silk robes now draped themselves over his frame.

"Now, after seeing all of that, do you honestly believe I should enter the domain of the Headbastard that caused all of my emotional and physical trauma for over a decade?"

Shaken out of her stupor, Amelia cringed inwardly at the abuse that was referenced. "I see your point, now can you see mine? Even if you don't require schooling, you will need to learn how to network with your peers. It will aid you with your dealings with the Wizengamot."

"Be that as it may," Harry replied with a shake of the head, "I am NOT going to attend a school that has THAT MAN or his associates in charge, thank you."

Blinking, she had to concede that. Then her brain caught up with her shock. "Harry? How in the BLOODY HELL DID YOU DO ALL OF THAT _WITHOUT A WAND_?"

"Simple, really," Harry said with a grin. "I don't need one. In fact, no one 'needs' them, as they're supposed to be training tools. However, I'm not a wizard, nor a sorcerer. In short, I am a Mage. Wands would burn out if I attempted to cast a spell through them. Fairly certain that Ollivander would have a coronary."

Blinking at that, Amelia looked at the chair, which was now starting to look like it was made in the 1300's. Her brain had to take a while to reset, and she took the offer of tea with a shot of whiskey from Goldturn.

* * *

_**Later** _

"Are you sure about this?" Amelia repeated herself. "Once you do this, you will be hip deep in politics. The sharks are rather swift in the Wizengamot, not to mention deadly."

Sighing, Harry sat back and let the small wooden box close. "Madam Bones, I have no intention of entering the political arena until my twenty fifth birthday at least. Until then, I trust you with the Potter Proxy. James and Lily praised your fairness and sense of duty in their journals.

"If you hadn't lost the knut toss to Alice Longbottom, you'd be my godmother. To say that I trust you is as redundant as saying that I trust Lily Potter. This has to be done to ensure certain meddling old farts leave me the hell alone. You _know_ this, so what's the problem?" Harry summed up his mini rant.

"It's just," Amelia shifted in her seat. "Harry, you're eleven years old. I know you have the education, but you don't have the experience yet. I worry for you."

"I appreciate that," he said with a nod. "The ritual did more than cram a decade's worth of books in my head, though. I have memories of the classes themselves." Pausing, Harry looked up at her. "Do you _not_ want the proxy? Say so now, and I can contact the Dowager Longbottom."

She rested a hand on his shoulder. "You haven't had time to process everything. I just don't want you to do anything in the heat of the moment that you may regret later."

"Understood," Harry said with a small grin. "I'm doing exactly what my parents wanted, Aunt Amy, no more and no less."

And with that, Harry opened the box again and quickly put the ring on his right ring finger. The gold band glowed briefly, then shrank to fit.

"Congratulations, Lord Potter," Goldturn said with a feral grin. "Shall I set up the retrieval teams?"

Harry smirked and nodded, before turning to Madam Bones. "As Lord Potter, I ask that the Department of Magical Law Enforcement investigate Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore on suspicions of the following: Misappropriation of Funds, Breaking Faith of a Last Will and Testament of an Ancient and Noble House, False Imprisonment of two Lords of Ancient and Noble Houses, Embezzlement, Malfeasance, Child Abuse and Neglect, Child Endangerment and Attempted Line Theft."

Swallowing the sudden burst of emotion, she nodded. "I, Amelia Bones, Director of the DMLE officially open the investigation of Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore."

Breathing in and out slowly, Harry nodded. "Now it starts."


	3. Plans in Motion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't own squat, 'cept the plot.  
> Shame too, as I could use the bloody money.
> 
> "Speaking"  
> Thinking or Emphasis  
> 'Mind Speech'  
> {Foreign Language}
> 
> To reiterate and explain further: Yes, Harry will have most of the Kryptonian abilities. However, Clark will be stronger with them than his brother. While Harry will be a magical powerhouse, he won't be as strong nor as fast as Clark or Karen Starr. For the average human or wizard though, that won't matter much.
> 
> Some of the more obscure abilities, such as microscopic vision and the like won't be developing. Instead, other abilities as pertaining to sorcery will. Mage Sight is definite, with an induced eidetic memory and iron-like occlumency shields from the 'downloads' will show itself. Others may come, but that's yet to be decided.
> 
> Thank you for your comments and for liking my little cubby hole in the multiverse.

* * *

**August 1, 1981 – Godric's Hollow**

Padfoot was laughing his arse off at what was happening in front of him. The training broom they got Harry for his 'birthday' was being used to great effect. The lad was chasing Lily's half-kneezle familiar Oberon around the living room, while giggling away like an imp. Adding to the hilarity, was Lily swearing up a storm at James – while whopping him repeatedly over the head with a rolled up Daily Prophet.

He caught the toddler on his third pass around the room, over his squealing protests. Plonking him on the couch next to him, Sirius yanked up the red sleeper shirt that read in gold script, _'The real question is: Was it funny?'_ , and proceeded to blow ripping noises into Harry's tummy. The boy's shrieking laughter bought James a reprieve from his wife's ire.

"Pa'foo, noooo!" Harry squealed through his laughter, as he ineffectively slapped the top of Sirius' head rapidly with is hands. "No-no-no-no-nooo. Go wee!"

Pulling back a bit, Sirius was a bit sheepish as he literally made Harry wet his nappy. "Heh. Oops. No worry. My turn."

"That's right," Lily said mock sternly while fighting a smirk. "You did it, you fix it."

Carrying his godson to the nappy table, Sirius smirked as Lily started in on James again.

"I can't believe you two idiots got him a broom!" she berated her husband. "He can't even walk straight yet!"

"Yeah, but did you see him fly?" James grinned. "Quidditch star, that one."

Chuckling, Sirius tended the business while reflecting on everything that happened in the past year. The blood adoption went without a hitch, making Harry's eyes turn a bright jade like Lily's. His hair caught the Potter Curse though, which was what Lily called James' perpetual sexy bed head.

That always made him snort and cringe at the same time. Hearing the word 'sexy' drawl out of Lily's mouth always made him squirm. And, the conniving redhead used it to great effect. For a bookworm, she could be seriously underhanded in her revenge.

The dual presentations and blood vows of the godparents with the Longbottom's baby Neville as well as Harry also went well, with the only caveat being a rather put out Auror Captain: one Amelia Bones. Alice was preening her good fortune, and was frequently caught poking her tongue out at the other redhead of the group.

Even though he'd been dating Amy for over two years now, he was still a bit wand-shy. However, after both ceremonies were concluded, Sirius manned up and stole the centre of attention by dropping to his knee in front of a gobsmacked Amelia Bones.

She said yes by the way, and he was still jumping about like a Nervous Nelly over their impending nuptials in November. Prongs just smacked him in the back of the head whenever he got too bad and called him a moron. _"Sirius Orion Potter-Black, the woman loves you. You're not going to turn into your father just because you're getting married. Now stop the whinging. You're acting like a girl, for the love of Merlin."_

Moony was by off and on the past few months. Albus had him infiltrating the local werewolf clans, so his time was rather limited lately. Worms though, he had to swear off coming by as Harry took an instant disliking to the man and kicked and fussed to high heaven whenever he was about. No one could figure out why either. Sure, the man was a nervous wreck most of the time, but he was still good for a laugh.

What no one caught, was the light tinge of blue around Harry's green eyes whenever Peter was about. The tyke could literally see the darkness that was shrouding the man's left arm, and he didn't like it one bit.

"There," Sirius said, looking proud of himself, "all done." His smile turned into a queasy frown when he smelled something right up there with things that reminded him of Herbology lessons in fourth year. "Oh come off it Pronglet, that's just not quidditch," he groused.

Harry's giggles didn't help the matter much, and they got worse when his Unca Pa'foo turned to the door and shouted "Prongs!"

* * *

**August 5, 1991 – Gringotts**

Goldturn was a mix of emotions. While it was beyond amusing to watch humans argue with each other, the fact that his client was so taken advantage of was beyond the pale. The Shinook Patriarch shook his head. Wizards appalled him. Goblins may thirst for battle and gold, but gups were to be cherished.

At the same time, seeing the results of the 'ritual' on the Potter Lord had even him sitting back in awe. Of course he knew about the boy's origins. Garna's prophesies predicted his coming after all. And, the Potters were one of the few families that were actually tolerated.

Eyeing the two letters that the Potter Lord scribed, he couldn't stifle the grin on his face. While one was a simple introductory letter, the other would put the wizards in the rocks. Tapping a rune on his desk, he called his assistant.

Said assistant instantly came in and bowed. Nodding, Goldturn instructed the gup. {Griphook, these letters need to be posted by muggle means. Ensure this one arrives on the morrow. The other one needs to be duplicated. Our new Potter Lord wants nothing to do with the Wizards' laughable education establishment, and insists that others are informed of things.}

Taking the first one, Griphook read it over when he was allowed. {America, then?} Getting a sharp nod, he read the other one. Once he was done, he nodded and left the office.

After the door closed, Goldturn could hear the gup laughing maniacally. Grinning, the goblin turned his attention to the other items that the Potter Lord wanted done. Activating his floo, he made to contact his Nimerigarian counterpart in Bogombis Bank, Colorado.

* * *

**Potter Manor**

Harry had spent the first three hours in the manor on a plush chair in the main sitting room. Fists clenched, he was literally shaking with rage over what he found. This was his _home_. This is where he was _stolen_ from. Instead of a loving family, he had to put up with the near insane blatherings of the xenophobic Dursleys.

Five days in Gringotts recovering from all the different rituals and meeting his true legal guardian, only to find _this._

He had to endure whippings, beatings, starvation, slave labor and traumatic mental abuse, instead of… _Rao_ , all he ever wanted was a bloody hug or an 'attaboy Harry'. _Something._

One name kept swirling in his mind, the architect of his misery: Dumbledore. At least Voldemort was honest with his murderous intentions. Dumbledore though, he seemed to be the one in the shadows. The one that pulled the strings and got away with things that would most likely would be applauded by the so called Dark Lord.

{Xal, stop it,} Lara snapped as her hologram appeared in front of his chair. {Obsessing with this is doing you little good.}

Looking up at the specter of his birth mother, Harry snarled with a shout. {I swear on everything I am that I will make Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore _**PAY**_ for what he's done to me!}

The sharp blue glow that flashed around him caused Lara to sigh. He just gave a legitimate oath. Her son definitely inherited his father's temper. {Be that as it may, my son, there's a correct way and an incorrect way to go about these things.}

Harry shot out of his chair. {I WANT HIM _DEAD_! I want…}

{ **STOP** ,} she interrupted his tirade. {This isn't about Dumbledore or Voldemort, and you know it. This is about your uncle, Zor-El. He's dead, so you need a new target for your fury. You can't bring them… You can't bring _us_ back Xal-El,} she finished quietly.

Harry sat heavily in the chair as his legs gave out. Hands in his hair, he pulled it just to feel something other than impotent rage. {Why?} he hissed out in a shuddering breath. { _Why_ did he do it? It doesn't make any _sense_!}

{Hate rarely does, my son,} Lara said gently. Even though she was a digital copy of the late Lara-El _née Lara Lor-Van_ , she desperately wished to be able to give her son a comforting touch, an embrace, _anything_. She crouched to be at his eye level. {Hate tears apart families and friendships no matter where it is. It exists solely to perpetuate itself. You _must_ be stronger than this.

{If you give in to those darker impulses, you'll become worse than either of those wizards, or your uncle. You must control your thoughts. You are too powerful to allow the baser emotions any purchase. The people of this planet will become like soap bubbles to you. Only the gentlest touch will allow them to endure. If you squeeze too hard, they will burst just as easily as those bubbles.

{The fact that you are a mage only intensifies the need for control. Emotions will fuel your connectedness with the universe around you. While anger does help empower the ability for war, _uncontrolled_ anger will cause your grasp of the aether to weaken. This in turn will result in what James called Wild Magic.}

Harry simply nodded and rocked in his chair. {Sorry,} he mumbled.

{No need. I'm here to guide you. Now take me out of the ring. It is time for another session.}

He looked up with tears streaming down his face. {What is on the agenda?}

{The oath you took to bring Dumbledore to justice was sealed,} Lara explained. {I will help you do this the correct way. This lesson will concern Ethics and the Law. You will also learn how to compartmentalize your thoughts, so that you will be able to control your emotions more easily.}

"Sipse," Harry called in English.

A pop sounded the arrival of the only surviving Potter House Elf. She was elderly and wearing matronly maid's robes. "Yes, young master? You have need of Sipse?"

Harry nodded. "I need a room that has a large space, and where I won't be disturbed."

"This way, young master," Sipse said with a nod. She took his hand and led him towards the cellar.

* * *

**August 6, 1991 – Kent Farm**

Signing the delivery form with a smile, Martha thanked the man and took the certified envelope inside. She didn't notice the driver briefly shrink to three feet tall, before fussing with something at his belt and returning to 'normal'.

"What'cha got there, Martha?" her husband asked from the kitchen table. He was only half paying attention, as his main focus was on his lunch.

Looking the envelope over, Martha arched a brow. "Certified letter from England? Do we know anyone in England?"

"Not that I know of," Jonathan said with a shake of the head. A look at Clark simply got a shrug out of his son. "Well, open it."

Pursing her lips, Martha pulled the rip tab and slid a smaller envelope out of the oversized one. "Hmph. Well, it's addressed to you, dear."

Grunting, he took it from her and opened it. The 'letter' was written on some rather expensive paper. Almost looked like parchment. He didn't get far into it, before he paled. "Clark, if you're done eating, go on back out to the barn and get the bales up to the loft. I'll be there in a minute."

"Sure, dad," Clark said while stuffing the last of his sandwich into his mouth. He drained his apple juice and gave his mother a kiss to the cheek before he left out the front door.

Martha watched her husband, a bit curious as well as worried. Her brow arched again when his mouth dropped open. "What's wrong?"

"There's gotta be a catch," he mumbled when he finished. "There's always a catch."

"Jonathan Kent, if you don't… oh, give it here," Martha said as she ended up swiping it from him. Holding it a bit away from her, she began to read the rather well written calligraphy:

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

_To Jonathan and Martha Kent: Greetings._

_Before I introduce myself, the first thing I would like to say is: Do. Not. Panic. Nothing about your lives is about to change in any way whatsoever, this I swear to you. In fact, I am in your debt. In this context, what I have to say should hopefully reassure you._

_Now, to the introductions. My name is Harold James Potter, and I am an eleven year old boy, who so happened to 'arrive' in England on the 31st of July, 1980. I've been told that there was a rather spectacular and somewhat deadly meteor shower in Smallville that afternoon._

_My arrival date in England is my legally reported Birthday. You could say that the event was 'stellar', as my adoptive parents found me in a field._

_Remember the first sentence in this letter: Do. Not. Panic._

_Now, as I do not know the name you've given my brother, he will be referred to as Kal further on in this missive. It's his birth name, Kal-El. Mine happens to be Xal-El. And yes, we're twins. I was totally gobsmacked when I found out, as I'm sure you are as well simply reading this.  
_

_Our father, Jor-El, chose the both of you to raise my brother, while our mother Lara chose the Potters to raise me. The reason for our being separated is simply due to the fact that I have something that Kal does not. While it is scientific in nature, it is more commonly known as magic. Yes, I know. I sound like a nutter. Honestly, it's the truth. Were we both born with the ability to manipulate the quantum energies, both of us would be in England. Were I not able to, I would already be in your living room as your other adoptive son._

_If you have doubts about this, please refer to where you found Kal. If that's possible, then other things could be as well. The Poet said it best: "There are more things in Heaven and Earth, Horatio, than are dreamed of in your philosophy. Ironically, there is a close correlation between the percentages of people here who can do it, and those that could do it on Krypton. (That was our birth planet.) For the record, I got it from our mother, who used it as a healer._

_What it boils down to, is that our parents wanted us to be raised by people who could help us with our gifts. And yes, our. While Kal doesn't have that particular ability, we both will be stronger and faster than normal. This is partially due to the fact that Krypton was quite a bit larger than the Earth. We evolved to compensate._

_That was the plan, anyway. While I have been reassured that you two are still raising Kal, disaster struck in England. What our parents did not know, was that they were sending me into the centre of a Wizarding Civil War. If you were to research the war that happened in the mid to late seventies, you would only find an increase in terrorism from the I.R.A., and an inordinate amount of exploding gas mains in the records. Magical society keeps itself hidden, most of the time anyway.  
_

_Unfortunately, I only spent fifteen months with the Potters before they were killed on Samhain of 1981. I think you call it Halloween or All Hallows Eve, or something along those lines. I forget.  
_

_As a quirk of the society I find myself in, I am emancipated. This is partially because I can be considered a part of the British Peerage. The other reason is solely due to the mismanagement of my upbringing. Not to worry. The person responsible for going against the Wills of the Potters will get his, I assure you._

_I'm digressing and cannot erase this. Sorry._

_Due to the way I arrived in England, the discrepancies in my education up to this point was rectified by direct memory transfer. Unfortunately, this means that I have the mentality of a thirty something year old man in a rather small frame. This was a last resort in order to break the legal control of the one who usurped my guardianship._

_As our parents wanted us to have a childhood, I am truly grateful that Kal still has one. And with that gratitude comes a, dare I say, gratuity. My investors have been kept apprised of the status of the Kent Farm, and found that it is under a double mortgage. I understand that this can be quite the hardship to get out from under, so I am going to help you._

_If you look in the main envelope, you will find the deed to your properties, as well as a ledger of accounts for both of you and a Trust set up for my brother. Information to contact the bank in question is included with that. These will only appear after you both read this. Don't worry. It's bigger on the inside._

_No, I don't want anything other than what you are already doing: Raising my brother. You have no idea the relief I feel that he is being raised properly. I am truly grateful one of us is, and I shall not take him from you. Ever. He is your son now, and always will be._

_If you need me to clear up anything with the legalities of your adoption of him, please let me know. I've been told that it was handled through LuthorCorp for some unfathomable reason. Not exactly sure how that came about, but I can get things 'running true' if there is a need for it. I am not above having whomever did the original paperwork obliviated. Ah… That is to say, have their memory or memories erased of the incident. I don't want anything to happen to you or Kal._

_Eventually, in a few years or so, I will want to meet you in person. I hope this does not distress either of you. We are the only two left as far as I've been told. I hope that isn't the case, as it would mean the eventual extinction of the Kryptonian Race._

_Now, about the ship. Don't worry. No one but you two will be able to read this. The ship Kal arrived in holds a 'copy' of our father, as the one I arrived in holds a copy of our mother. She's the one that has been educating me. Eventually, Jor-El will make himself known to teach Kal about our heritage. At least I hope so. According to my ship, his ship isn't responding. It's almost as if the 'line' has been cut, if you think of it as a telephone connection, that is._

_If he doesn't manifest by the time Kal turns fourteen, I recommend that you inform him of his heritage and contact me. If anything, I can investigate whatever might have gone wrong and help Kal know that he isn't alone. Fourteen is when my ship estimates that Kal will start to develop his strength. Other abilities will follow. With the right amount of guidance, Kal should be able to blend in normally._

_Unfortunately, due to the mental 'download' that I received, I've been given a bit of a jump-start in that aspect of things. On the other hand, I've been given the teachings to offset this already. I am NOT looking forward to handling a lot of eggs when this happens. Oh, don't be alarmed if you see Kal hovering over his bed in his sleep. I'm told that this is normal. If a thing like that could be ever called normal, that is._

_At any rate, I know this is a lot of information and I apologize for that. Hopefully, you aren't overwhelmed._

_As to the reason that you were chosen: Jor-El visited Smallville a long time ago. Out of everyone in the area, Hiram Kent impressed him with his kindness. The same could be said of the Potters, as Lara-El visited my adoptive grandfather, Charlus Potter. From what I've been told, your family and the Potters hold the same or similar ideals and morality to the House of El._

_Now, the reason this happened at all: An Extinction Level Event was predicted by our father, who was a scientist, and he made preparations. Sadly, this event occurred and Krypton is no more. During my memory transfer, I was shown the reverse camera angle from my ship, and actually witnessed it. In absentia, sure, but it was very upsetting to see the planet of our birth quite literally explode._

_On to other matters. As I am emancipated and have received the equivalence of a post graduate and-or doctorate education already, I will be attending university, however. I haven't decided where just yet, but I will not be attending in England. The man who broke faith with the Potter Will is rather high up in the government, and I have no wish to ever be subject to his control. The people he left me with aren't fit to raise any child, including their own._

_I will be attending Excelsior Academy either this year or the next, if only for the placement tests. I'm unsure if it's necessary, but I've been reminded that I need to socialize. If you see a green eyed version of your son in Smallville or wandering the fields, that's me. I'm currently fighting the urge to visit just on the principle of the thing._

_Oh, and my advisor just reminded me. In amongst the paperwork that's in the original envelope, is an address to which you can write me, as well as a telephone number. As I will be staying in London, those should be able to get to me. Well, at least till the end of summer, at any rate. Otherwise, I can be reached at the Academy.  
_

_As I said at the beginning: Do Not Panic. I highly approve of the both of you, and have no wish to remove my brother from your custody. I will do everything in my power to see to it that he remains with you. There should be a business folder included with contact information to my solicitors, just in case anything unforeseen occurs._

_Lastly, he's the only family I have left. Please love him._

_Respectfully Yours,_

_Lord Harold James Potter IV  
_

_Earl of Richmond_

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

The Kents sat there, not knowing what to say. Eventually, Martha reached over to the original envelope and tipped the contents onto the table. The first thing they both noticed was the deed to the Kent Farm. Jonathan had to hold onto Martha at this point, as she fell into a fit of tears.

* * *

**Finch-Fetchley Home – Berkshire, England**

Sir Dustin Finch-Fetchley retrieved the post from the carrier at his desk. Flipping through it, he paused when he saw a Royal Crest. "Oh, my. Earl of Richmond? Really? What's all this about?" Fetching his letter opener, he sliced it and sat to read while sipping his morning tea. The more he read, the more irate he became.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

_Sir Finch-Fetchley, Greetings._

_I hope this letter finds you well. Let me introduce myself. My name is Lord Harold James Potter IV, the Potter of Potter and the Earl of Richmond. Currently, I am eleven years old and have discovered many things that would appal you as a parent._

_First off, yes, I am that particular Harry Potter whom the Establishment has labelled 'The-Boy-Who-Lived'. It is a title that I truly abhor, to be perfectly honest. As there are numerous and quite illegal books written about my so-called 'adventures', you may or may not have heard of my name._

_To put it as bluntly as possible: Not one book written about me has an ounce of truth in them. The 'Boy-Who-Lived' series is pure fiction. There are three different non-fiction history books that state how I supposedly survived the attack on my parents. Of which, all three disagree with each other._

_As it stands, no one other than myself survived the incident and I have yet to be interviewed._

_The assumptions of what happened on 31 October, 1981 are all incorrect. I did not miraculously survive the killing curse, as I have not been struck by said curse. The lightning bolt scar that used to grace my forehead was actually a rune placed by my mother._

_If your child or children take Ancient Runes for study, they would be able to give more detail as to what that particular rune signifies. I won't bore you with the definitions._

_The true heroes of that horrid night were my father, James Potter, and most especially my mother, Lily. Mum was both a Charms and Runes Mistress, and was well on her way to receive her Potions Mastery. On her own, my mother designed a Runic Ward Array that has the capability of protecting the most important thing in her existence: Me._

_Cut into the bottom of my cot, the Runic Array focused a very potent shield about my person. The so called 'scar' was the key rune, and the entire array was powered by the death of my mother. She quite literally poured her life's magic into protecting her son._

_That specific Runic Array would be considered 'Dark Magic' by the Ministry, as it required a human sacrifice. All the same though, I'm relatively certain that any mother reading this wouldn't care what the Ministry thought, so long as their child was safe._

_The key rune was drawn on my forehead in my mother's blood, which then burned into my skin when the self-styled "Dark Lord" turned the killing curse towards me._

_What I find offensive and absurd is the fact that NO ONE in the Ministry acknowledges that it was My Mother who defeated Voldemort. I am completely incensed over this._

_You may be asking yourself why that is. The answer is as simple as it is disturbing: My Mother was a Muggleborn Witch._

_This brings me to the point of this letter, which I apologize it being form-written. Copies of this missive have been sent to every parent of a Muggleborn Witch or Wizard at or above the age of eleven that is still attending Hogwarts, as I have been advised that certain things have been kept from you._

_As muggle parents of a witch or wizard, you have absolutely NO RIGHTS over your child(ren). Once you signed the form that stated your son or daughter had magic and would attend school, your child required a Magical Guardian to oversee their upbringing._

_As it stands, one man is the Magical Guardian of every Muggleborn child that attends Hogwarts: Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore._

_Now, if this was set up as a proper orphanage, this wouldn't be that much of a problem. However, Mr. Dumbledore has three major positions within Magical Britain. The first is the Hogwarts Headmaster, of course._

_The second is Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot. That role is similar to the Lord High Chancellor of Great Britain to the House of Lords. As there is no Magical Equivalent to the House of Commons, this role is even more important. As Chief Warlock, Dumbledore must attend each and every session of the Wizengamot._

_The third job is even more time consuming. As the Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards, that role is nearly identical to the Secretary General of the United Nations._

_You may wonder how a man could hold three such important positions. Other than the fact that he defeated Dark Lord Grindewald in the 1940's, and he is considered a war hero, there isn't a very good reason. As all three positions are highly public and time sensitive, something has to give._

_Unfortunately, the give in this case concerns his Magical Guardianship at the very least. Each muggle parent should have had contact at least once a month with their child's Magical Guardian. Thus stated, I highly doubt that over seventy pairs of parents have had a session with the man._

_These are your current options:_

_1) Find a friend who is either a witch or wizard that will help oversee your child's education and needs._

_2) Locate a different school abroad, and either send your children or emigrate your family to that country. There is a list of Magical Schools at the end of this letter. The closest would be in Dublin, Ireland._

_3) Hire tutors for home schooling. This is potentially the most expensive option, however._

_4) Withdraw your children from Magical School altogether. Mind you, if this is done before O.W.L.s are completed, this option will see each member of your family having their memories of magic completely erased due to the Statute of Secrecy. In the case of your child, they would also have their magic bound in addition to the erasure. This could be a problem for those older students, as literal years of memories would have to be obliviated, reducing them to the age of eleven in their own minds._

_5) Do nothing and let your child(ren) continue at Hogwarts._

_Even though I'm considered a Half-Blood, due to mum being muggleborn, I'm taking option two. However, my reasoning is far more personal than simple guardianship. As it stands, Dumbledore is currently facing numerous charges as pertaining to my upbringing._

_First, he sealed the Last Will and Testament of my parents, and blatantly ignored the list of people they recommended for my care._

_Instead, he left me on a doorstep of people who abhor magic. Brilliant, that. Those people shouldn't raise any children, be they theirs or not. I've had to go through a tremendous amount of healing, both in potions and spells, in order to not appear that I've been forcibly starved and beaten for over a decade._

_As a member of the Peerage, I can say quite confidently that our Sovereign will be quite incensed over the matter when She is informed._

_The second and far more important charge: Dumbledore attempted to set up a Marriage Contract for me. While I respect wizarding traditions, there's the fact that the House of Potter abhorred the use of Marriage Contracts in general, and forcing such things in particular. They only used them to safeguard the choice of their children. To wit, my mother was signed into one with my father in their sixth year at Hogwarts. She was quite beautiful, and the sharks were circling._

_In reading the illegal contract, it showed that after my turning seventeen, I would have had to marry this witch and produce an heir within the year. Also listed was the fact that the Ancient and Noble House of Potter would have to swear fealty to the Ancient House of Weasley. It should also be important to note that the 'Ancient House of Weasley' is already sworn to the 'House of Dumbledore'._

_That, ladies and gentlemen, is Line Theft by a Minor House. Very serious in the magical world. Blood Feuds have been started for less._

_Naturally, I burned the original contract. I got away with this simply because said contract did not have my full name listed, nor did it have the Potter Head of House's signature. Sloppy, that. It wasn't magically binding due to those rather major details._

_There are numerous other minor charges, but suffice it to say that the Headmaster/Chief Warlock/Supreme Mugwump is going to be tied up in red tape with a rather large bow on top for quite some time._

_Now, there will be someone reading this wondering if this has actually been written by an eleven year old child. Understandable question, really. I did live in a cupboard for ten years._

_The Purebloods will hear this answer and stop asking: Family Magic._

_Since I'm writing to the parents of muggleborn and a few half-bloods, I will elaborate just a touch. The Family Magic in question is a fail-safe in cases such as mine, where there is only one member of the family left with no guidance. In short, I received a memory transfer of what I should have been taught before heading to Hogwarts, as well as a multitude of classes. As it stands, I could probably test out of the muggle school system altogether and receive several doctorates._

_I would offer this to your children, but it is directly tied to my family and would seriously harm someone that isn't of the family. My apologies._

_I know. Magic is ridiculous. Trust me, I know. I'm still getting used to it._

_I'll end this missive with my wish that you do well in your endeavours, whatever they may be, and give my best hopes for your children's future._

_Lord Harold James Potter IV_

_Earl of Richmond_

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

_Now for the list of schools. More information can be acquired at Gringotts Bank for a fee. These are in no particular order._

_**Durmstrang Institute:** Not Applicable. It lies in an unknown location, somewhere in Eastern Europe, and only allows pureblood students. Also, it's one of only two schools that actively teaches the Dark Arts. The other is in Brazil. While the Brazilian school doesn't have a pureblood requirement, I wouldn't trust any of the staff around children._

_**Académie Beauxbâtons de la Magie:** (Beauxbatons Academy of Magic) This school in southern France, and has a rather beautiful campus. However, all textbooks and classes are in French. If you are fluent, I would recommend it solely due to the lack of bigotry and rather upbeat nature of the staff. _

_The only bigotry I found was the typical French one for people who don't speak the language. C'est la vie._

_**Salem Institute of Higher Learning:** American School in Boston. Has quite a mixture of magical and non-magical subjects, hence the lack of 'magic' or 'sorcery' in the name. A diploma from Salem will hold the same weight as a normal school, as all normal subjects are taught. That is rather important for University._

_**Zaragoza Universidad de Hechicería:** Spanish School in Zaragoza, Spain. Has some higher level schooling in the areas of Warding and Arithmancy, but that's about it. Bigotry is rather prevalent there, too. It's sister Campus in Portugal is just as bad._

_**Baile Átha Cliath Acadamh na Asarlaíochta:** The school I mentioned before that is in Dublin, Ireland. The campus is hidden in a forest, and is quite ethereal in my opinion. Well thought out program, and teaches the core groups to N.E.W.T. Level, with the option for Masteries (read: Doctorates) for qualified students. I'm actually considering this one for myself. The lack of normal subjects is a detracting factor, however._

_**Gladstone Institute of Higher Learning:** Australian school in Gladstone, which is similar to Salem in many regards. Has both a Magic and Non-Magical curriculum._

_**Sōsarī Kyōto Shinden (Kyoto Temple of Sorcery):** It and it's sister school are considered the top two schools on the planet. The only drawback is having to learn Japanese, but they have coursework on that and is considered a Foreign Language requirement for University in Britain and abroad._

_**Asahikawa Majutsu Shinden (Asahikawa Magic Temple):** Sister Campus to Kyoto._

_**Greymouth Academy of Magic:** Excellent School in New Zealand. Campus is rather nice as well. Like the American and Australian schools, they teach both magic and non magic classes._

_**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry:** This castle sits in the Scottish Highlands. The curriculum has sadly degraded over the years. History is taught by an actual ghost. While that may be interesting to some, Professor Binns is one of those who talks in a droning monotone bore. It's been reported to be the nap time of the school for over fifty years. Potions has dropped its quality severely in the past seven years. Rather than go in detail on the downsides of the school, I will say that the Transfiguration and Charms O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s are the only courses recognized outside of Britain. On the other hand, History, Potions, Defence Against the Dark Arts, Care of Magical Creatures, Arithmancy and Runes are not. They also charge four times more for muggleborn students to attend as well. How's that for a slap in the face?_

_These were just the ones I researched. Gringotts has a listing of all the schools, as well as pamphlets describing the various campus and curriculum. They also said they could refer people to private tutors – for a fee of course. Gringotts can do anything, they just want to be paid for it. An aspiration I can empathize with. Just remember to show them respect, and they'll tolerate you better. However, don't apologize. They hate that._

_Tally Ho and all that rot. Good luck in whatever you decide. All my best wishes for you and your family's future._

_~Harry_

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

"Well!" Sir Dustin huffed. "It would seem that I need an appointment with Gringotts." Looking up, he shouted for his wife, quite wroth. "Alyssa!"

Up and down the countryside, many more muggle parents came to similar conclusions. Come the first of September, many things would change.

* * *

**Queen's Chamber – Themyscira**

Hippolyta frowned as she set the letter from this "Earl of Richmond" on her bedside table. Plans needed to be revised. After dressing for the day, she girded herself as she had to break Donna's heart. Her daughter would be so disappointed. Fortunately, as this Earl had provided alternates, she may yet avoid her tears and her ire.

Coming into the morning room, she watched her daughters breaking their fast with various fruits. Diana wasn't a morning person by any stretch of the imagination, and still looked to be half asleep. Donna, on the other hand, was wide awake and breaking the rules by reading a book while eating at the table.

Taking a seat, she watched as Donna sat up wide eyed and slowly moved said book into her lap. "Sorry, mother."

"This morning, it is of no consequence," Hippolyta said gently. "However, there is something we need to discuss."


	4. Movement

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't own squat, 'cept the plot. Shame, too. I could use the bloody money.
> 
> I reject your canon with my cannon. *lights fuse*

**12 October 1981 – Godric's Hollow**

The house was subdued. Albus had just left after dropping the prophesy on their heads. James and Lily had a silent conversation before turning to look at Sirius. “I'll do it,” he rasped as he bounced Harry on his knee. “No, wait,” he paused as a thought struck him. “Peter would be a better idea. You and I are brothers from another mother, James, and everyone knows it. If Peter does it, then I couldn't tell anyone even if they caught me.”

“That could work,” James mumbled.

Lily shook her head. “I don't like it. He's been off lately, and Harry can't stand him.”

“We'll figure something out,” James said with a sigh. “We always do.”

The three of them didn't notice Dumbledore outside with his wand out and a satisfied smile on his face.

Harry did, though.

* * *

**29 July 1994 – Smallville**

Harry stood in a field of wheat, staring at a house that had a large red barn. The Kent Farm was picturesque in an idealistic fashion. Part of him was jealous, but he would never begrudge Clark's childhood. A dark haired girl stood next to him and squeezed his hand, making him turn to smile in gratitude.

He never wanted to know what could have happened had they not met that day, nearly four years ago.

* * *

**16 August 1991 – Wizengamot**

The Wizengamot Session was nearly over, when Harry blasted the main door down. Not open – _off the hinges_. Striding in over the fallen doors, he was incensed over what had just happened. “That's it?” his hissed voiced echoed through the chamber. “Removal of two positions and a fine? That's… _all_?”

Tiberius Ogden, the interim Chief Warlock, surveyed the blood-red haired boy in prime wizarding finery. The crest on the lad's left breast caused his eyes to widen slightly. “Please identify yourself, young man, before you are detained and your parents fined for disrupting a governmental session.”

Harry stood tall and sneered at the entire room. “I may look nothing like the various media have depicted me, but it is true. _**I am**_ Harold James Potter IV, the Potter of Potter and Earl of Richmond, Emancipated Lord of the Crown. I stand before this _Most August Body_ with a feeling of absolute betrayal. The perpetrator of numerous crimes against my family… _Walks… Free_?”

“We couldn't do more,” Amelia Bones interjected with a look of sorrow and frustration. “All of his actions were as the Chief Warlock. We did rescind his appointment to the ICW, but nothing was done under the purview of the Headmaster of Hogwarts.”

“Bollocks!” Harry thundered. “Where do you think what little medical attention was given to me occurred? _St. Mungos_?” Scoffing, he glared at Ogden. “So, that's it? Nothing else to be done? So sorry, hands are tied with gold and all that rot?”

“I resent that implication,” Tiberius glared.

Harry matched that glare with his own. **“I resent Albus “** _ **too many fucking names and title's**_ **” very existence!”** his young voice roared into echoes throughout the chamber.

Turning to a completely shocked Dumbledore, he continued his diatribe. “Albus Wulfric Dumbledore, I, Lord Harold James Potter, Name you _Traitor_ and _Enemy_ to the House of Potter unto the seventh generation. I hereby break any and all ties to the Minor House of Dumbledore, for the crimes against the head of two houses – Potter and Black – and furthermore declare on the Potter Family Magic: No Potter shall attend any institution where Albus Wulfric Dumbledore holds authority or influence. So I Say, So I Vow, **So Mote It**!”

The flare of wrathful feud magic blinded everyone, but Harry wasn't done as he held up his hand to the old wizard as he looked about the room. “ _This_ is the bastard you wish to have influence over your children and grandchildren?

“To keep me under his control, he placed Sirius Black in _gaol_ for being my bound godfather; did not warn the Longbottoms because Alice is my bound godmother; placed me in a false marriage contract with the Weasley Clan, whom owe allegiance to Dumbledore; and sent me to magic hating muggles who treated me **worse than a** _ **slave**_ **!** ”

Glaring, he eyed the entire room. “I piss on all of you,” he hissed with malice, before spinning on his heel and purposely broke fifteen layers of anti-apparition wards – _and sounding just as many alarms_ – as he force-apparated through them like they were made of spun glass.

He also didn't care that all he did and said was live on the Wizarding Wireless Network.

* * *

**16 August 1991 – Unknown Pacific Island**

Everything was wrong. He got almost all he was after, except seeing that bastard in prison. He even got to keep that job overseeing _children_!

It was an impossible, enraged and _blind_ apparition from the Wizengamot chambers that led him to this island with a crack of thunder in both places. He didn't care where he was when he appeared, and wouldn't have cared about the alarms he set off in the Ministry, had he been told about them. Harry simply turned to glare at a boulder, screaming wordlessly as it started to melt. He didn't even realize that his heat vision was active, it just lashed in his outrage.

Once his temper was sated, _and the rock thoroughly melted_ , he fell to his knees, sobbing. The oath may have been satisfied, but he wasn't by any stretch of the imagination. That, and regardless of the fact that he had many years of training and etcetera stuffed in his head, he was still only eleven years old. His emotions were all over the place.

Unknown to him, his explosive appearance was noticed by the natives of the island. One directly, and others by the sound of his arrival. Fate or Chance had Harry appear not twenty feet from Donna's regular afternoon hiking trail. Said girl stood completely still with her mouth hanging open at the display.

Only after the male child collapsed on himself in a fit of grief, and seeing that his long hair shortened and changed from a deep red to coal black, did she move. “Είσαι καλά?” she asked in Greek, which was a simple 'Are you okay?'

Standing sharply in a spin, Harry faced the approaching girl with a look of stunned shock on his face. “Συγνώμη,” he apologized. {I did not know there were people here. I shall leave.}

Donna's surprise was intensified when the boy turned and started to float upward. {No, _wait_!} She followed him in the air and nabbed his hand when they were some fifty feet over the beach.

Caught, Harry again turned wide eyed to the girl. She followed him in the air! He only learned to fly a bit over a week ago, and here was a girl in a classic toga just following along! _What. The. Everloving. Hell?_

“How in the world?” he blurted in English.

“Know not where you are?” she countered in the same language. At his shake of the head, her eyebrows shot skyward. “No male should be able to locate Themyscira, and yet you just happened to find it?”

Harry shook his head again. “I apparated blindly. I had to get away before I murdered the traitor to my family.”

* * *

**29 July 1994 – Smallville**

“It will be all right,” Donna murmured to her rather anxious boyfriend of two years. She had seen him at his best and worst, and it was rather awkward to see the nervous dance he was doing – all twitchy and fidgety.

Sighing, Harry let out a lot of his tension as Donna rubbed his back. “Thank you.”

“I shall always help you,” Donna replied with a smile and a kiss to his cheek. “Shall we?” she indicated with a wave towards the farm house.

“Yes,” Harry nodded. “Let's.”

* * *

Inside, Martha was preparing dinner in a bit of hurried nervousness. Harold had called and asked to meet this evening, as his ship's computer still couldn't locate Clark's. So far, she had made three pies in addition to roast beef, slow baked potatoes and a relative plethora of vegetables.

Jonathan came into the room and took everything in. His wife was in what he called 'cooking panic mode', and wasn't surprised. He was nervous, too. All they told Clark was that someone was coming to meet him about his birth family. No mention of aliens or anything of that nature. They were also a bit scared to mention the fact that he had a brother, let alone a twin.

Internally, he was praying for everything to go well and hoping that Clark wouldn't hate them for not telling him sooner.

As for Clark, he had already finished his chores in record time and was busy pacing in the living room. While he knew he was adopted, meeting someone about his birth family had him in all sorts of conflict. Ma and Pa were the only family he knew, and didn't want to appear too eager and upset them.

His best friend, Pete Ross, couldn't make it. Something about helping his dad fix something in the shop. Chloe was there, though, sighing almost every time he passed her on the couch.

“Will you sit down? You're going to wear a hole in the floor!” Chloe complained and chastised at the same time.

Huffing out a huge gust of air, Clark flopped on the couch next to his other best friend. “I can't help it, Chloe. I want to know, but don't want to hurt Ma and Pa over it.”

The blond sighed and patted his knee. “Whatever happens, happens. I'll be right here with you the whole way.”

Hanging his head, Clark glanced at her from the side. “Thanks.”

“Any time,” Chloe replied with a grin as she met his eyes.

Everyone in the house froze when there was a knock at the door. Clark watched his dad move through the room to answer it. “See? He's as tense as I am.”

“You're a Kent, Clark,” Chloe whispered as she took his hand. “Nothing will ever change that.”

“Hope so,” was the only thing he could say to that.

* * *

Watching Harry fidget on the porch again for a minute or so, Donna sighed. “Would you relax? You're thinking in circles again. Quit it.”

Harry hung his head with a heaving sigh, much like Clark just did, looking at her from the side. “I just want this to go right,” he whispered. Straightening up, he girded himself as he knocked on the door.

There was a moment's pause, before they heard someone approach the door. It opened and they looked slightly up to the pensive face of Jonathan Kent. The sandy blond man looked to be in his mid to late thirties, and wore a brown and green checked flannel shirt over denim trousers and brown chucks of a sort that Harry didn't recognize.

“Harold Potter,” Harry said with his hand out.

They shook hands. “Jonathan Kent.”

Realizing that they were just as nervous as he was caused Harry to relax a bit. “Do. Not. Panic,” he said quietly with a hopeful grin on his face.

Jonathan blew out a heaving sigh and smiled sheepishly at the pair of them. “My God, you look almost just alike,” he whispered in slight awe at the ersatz version of his son.

“But not quite, I imagine,” Donna said with a smile and an intercontinental accent. “Since he's so nervous, shall I introduce myself? Donna Troy. This one's best friend and a bit more.”

“Sorry, Donna,” Harry winced. “Yes sir, this is my girlfriend, Donna.”

“Bit early to be bringing girls home,” came Martha's voice from behind Jonathan's shoulder. The redhead appeared and looked to be more relieved than anything. “I'm Martha, this lump's better half. Nice to meet you both.” Pleasantries and handshakes later, they were let in.

“Oh, wow,” came a girl's voice from a bit further in. “Clark? He looks just like you!”

Donna gently pushed Harry forward while Martha pulled Jonathan out of the way. Seeing that, Clark was nudged forward by Chloe.

Harry and Clark just stared at each other, noting the similarities and differences. Donna smiled as she lightly leaned back and forth on the balls of her feet. This was a long time coming.

And like her, but more startled, Chloe was looking back and forth between the two with huge eyes. “I, uh. Is there something you want to tell me, Clark?”

“Chloe,” Martha quietly chastised. “He didn't know. We were waiting to tell him.”

“Why?” Clark whispered, sounding betrayed. He turned to his parents. “Why wait? Why keep me from knowing I have a twin brother?”

While Martha wiped her eyes, Jonathan's voice was hitchy. “We. It wasn't out of meanness, son. We just. We love you so much, Clark, and we were afraid you'd… ”

“What?” Clark prodded, slowly getting angry.

Martha put a hand on his arm. “We thought you'd want to leave.”

The anger drained so fast, there was a red shift. “Are you kidding? Why would you think that?”

“I wouldn't have let him, in any case,” Harry quietly interjected, “regardless of the fact that he's thirty seconds older than me.”

“That was all?” Martha blurted in surprise.

Harry nodded. “Yes, ma’am. It was an assisted birth. There were some complications, so an equivalent of what you would call a C-Section was performed.”

Chloe's eyes were wide, now that he heard Harry speak more than a few words. “Clark? Your brother's British.”

“That obvious, am I?” Harry grinned, then turned to Clark. “We were both adopted out, and although I was born with a different name, the name my adoptive parents gave me was Harold James. I go by Harry.”

“Potter,” Donna poked him in the back.

Flinching, Harry started. “Yes, of course. Harry James Potter.”

“Clark Hiram Kent,” Clark replied. “Are you really my brother? Am I a Potter?”

“No, that was the family that adopted me,” Harry replied with a shake of the head. “Our true family name is El. You're Kal-El, and I'm Xal-El.”

Chloe's mouth dropped open as she gaped at Harry, snapping it shut quickly. She glanced briefly at her blue jewelled bracelet as her mind raced.

“What does that mean?” Clark asked, tripping Chloe out of her wool gathering.

Harry seemed to think a bit, his head tilted while looking at the furniture, before nodding. “We probably shouldn't do this indoors. Would behind the barn keep things from the neighbours?”

“Should do,” Jonathan said. “Let's go.”

“I'm still confused,” Clark said.

Harry patted his shoulder. “It'll make sense in a bit.” In a whisper, he asked, “The blonde your sister, or a friend?”

“Friend,” Clark whispered back. “Trust her with my life.”

Martha was on her son's other side. “It'll be okay, Clark. I promise. We're all here for you.” While she had a happy front up, she was whirling round and round inside her head. Well, she was a mother. It's kind of a prerogative to do that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trying very hard to get back into writing. I apologize for being so farked in the head.
> 
> Rather than go through another trial session, which I hate writing, I simply went with the afters. Hope it worked out okay.


End file.
